Anything You Can Do
by Sage Darkwoods
Summary: Inara wants to prove to Mal that she can be just as good as him at planning and carrying out jobs. If that involves Mal posing as a Companion, all the better.  For the lj comm summersteam challenge
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Anything You Can Do

**Author: **Sage Darkwoods

**Fandom/Pairing: **Firefly; Mal/Inara

**Rating: **PG, PG-13, currently; later on R

**Word Count: **690 for The Prologue

**Genre: **action/adventure, romance

**Spoilers: **set after "Serenity" the movie

**Disclaimer:** Firefly and Serenity belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. No copywright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

**Comments: **This is the first part of probably four parts. The second part is about 1/3 done, and the rest is plotted. My school course is kicking my behind lately, and free time is hard to get. Written for the LiveJournal community summersteam challenge.

**

* * *

****The Prologue**

"Inara, we got ourselves a situation here." The crackle of static could be heard through the radio, as well as the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

"_Ta ma de_," she swore, and turned a sweet smile to her client. He leaned up on his elbows, looking quizzical. She smoothed his mussed hair in what she hoped was a reassuring way, and tried not to think of what went wrong this time.

The job had gone south, as most tend to do around here as of late. After Miranda, the crew was more cautious, yet oddly a bit more reckless about where the jobs came from. Anything to shake the Alliance's foundations.

Another job like this, they'd be sure to be on the Alliance's radar, and were sure to be humped.

Gorramit, she was starting to sound like him. Her word choices were less sophisticated, her speech less cultured.

He got under her skin, and it irked her. Still, there was a small part of her that didn't mind, and she could think of other ways he could get under her skin. Hot, steamy ways --

That way lies madness, she scolded herself, and shook her head slightly. She looked at the client beside her, confusion still as evident as the sweat still drying on his body. "I'll be right back, _bao bei_," she said softly, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Just a tiny little matter to clear up with my transport." She swung her feet off the bed and stood gracefully, pulling on the red sakura blossom kimono in the process. She tried not to run to the wave centre near the front of her shuttle, and pulled a small curtain across to at least give the illusion of privacy.

Clicking on the wave and clicking off the radio signal, Mal's already bruising face filled the screen. "What is so important that you called right now?" she hissed, trying to keep her voice low enough so her client wouldn't hear.

Mal's expression went from harried to amusement in three seconds flat. "Did I catch you... entertaining, Ambassador?"

"You damn well know you did; it's the reason we're here on this _zheng qi de go se dui _of a planet," she continued in low tones. "What happened?"

His expression mustered up something that resembled seriousness. "It was going well. Had the cargo, no problems. Went for a drink – "

"Oh, Mal, you didn't," she interjected.

"How was I to know it was an Alliance bar?" he said, holding up his hands in innocent protest.

"Because it's you and you can always find a way to make someone want to punch you." Her tone was less angry and more resigned. It was becoming nearly a habit with Captain Mal Reynolds, former lieutenant for the Independents in the war against the Alliance. He still wore his old browncoat, still wore his hairshirt like it was a part of him that would ache if he were to give it up in any way. The recent events with the failed Alliance-settled planet Miranda had only made his resentment to the Alliance deepen. After the crew of Serenity managed to get the signal out across the Cortex, every planet across the way knew that the failed terraforming of Miranda, and the government's attempt to control the population, ended in the deaths of ninety percent. The other ten percent became savage and rage-filled beasts of former humans – Reavers – who plagued the skies of the Rim planets and beyond, cannibalising and terrorising anyone fool enough not to run away fast enough.

"So, uh, I'd appreciate it if you made a speedy return to the ship, without your client, and, ah..."

He made a vague gesture with his hand in front of him, and turned a bit pink. "Ya might wanna get a sash for that robe."

She looked down; the robe had opened to reveal an expanse of skin reaching to her navel, the edges of her breasts visible. She clamped it closed with one hand. "You're such a child," she said in clipped tones, and the last thing she saw before she terminated the wave was Mal's smirk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:**Anything You Can Do

**Author: **Sage Darkwoods

**Fandom/Pairing:**Firefly; Mal/Inara

**Rating:**R

**Word Count: **2 050 for The Flashback, running total: 2 740

**Genre:**action/adventure, romance

**Spoilers:**set after "Serenity" the movie

**Disclaimer:**Firefly and Serenity belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.

**Comments:**This is the second part of probably four parts. The third part has been started, mostly due to the Word Wars with other NaNo novelists. Hopefully by the end of the month it will be finished. Written for the Harlequin challenge in the Livejournal community "summersteam."

* * *

**The Flashback**

The yearly Madrassa Academy Ball on Sihnon was for graduates of the regular program. Usually – unless the graduate had been enrolled later in life – this meant that by the time the Companion trainee turned eighteen, he or she was ready to graduate. In Inara's year, there were seven girls and two boys who made it through all the testing; Inara got the highest marks. It had been a struggle with the languages, but she outstripped her shortcomings in that area with etiquette, tea ceremony skills, and her natural sensuality and accomplishments in the bedroom.

After six years of training, tonight was their night to shine. They had spent weeks preparing for the ball alone: rehearsing dances, picking out just the right outfit, finding the best shoes, practicing etiquette for all types of people and situations. The excitement was almost palpable in the air, as anxious graduates glanced at each other with ear-to-ear smiles, all teeth and honest. Their instructors had given up at this point; they could not teach them anything more, nor were they able to listen, as their heads were stuffed with images of ballgowns and young, rich clients and orchestras striking waltzes.

The room was the main ballroom of a manor, generously hosted by an upstanding senator and his new wife. It had a double-high ceiling, and boasted a large glass chandelier at the centre, glittering in gold and prism light. The double doors at the front of the room led nearly directly into the room, with two large staircases flanking it. The stairs led to the upper level, which housed the guest rooms and ringed the top half of the ballroom with an ornate balcony. It was from one of the far rooms where the newly-graduated Companions emerged and stood at the railing of the balcony. The gathered crowd – dignitaries, politicians, ambassadors, the social elite of the United Allied Planets – quieted down to give their attention to the top of the room.

They had formed a line, all nine of them, almost shaking with nervous energy. This would be the first foray into the public world with the new title of Companion, the first impressions they would make on would-be clients. Reputations and futures were made at this debutante ball, and everyone present knew it. This thought did nothing to calm the nerves of the new Companions. Inara clutched the hand of her classmate, Xiaojing, and squeezed it reassuringly. "This is going to be the most exciting night of our lives," she whispered hurriedly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Xiaojing blink rapidly, and she squeezed her hand back.

Inara tried to concentrate on what her House Priestess was saying – something about thanking the Kim household for opening its doors, thanking the gods for blessing the trainees. She could hear it more as a soft buzz. Looking down the line, she saw similar reactions. Xiaojing to her left was mouthing a silent prayer. To her right, Sheydra, her dearest friend and roommate, had wide eyes that were darting across the room at a rapid rate. Next to Sheydra was Charles, who kept tugging at the cuff of his deep blue jacket. Elisa's thin shoulders continued to square and hunch every five seconds, and her shawl perched precariously on the edge of sliding off.

The House Priestess of the Guild introduced the Companions to the crowd assembled below, and each one got the expected polite applause. Sheydra, on her other side, nearly shook with excitement as her name was announced, and Inara had a brief thought about a puppy wagging her tail so hard it shook the rest of her. Then her name was announced, and she understood Sheydra's reaction. This was the moment that meant she was officially a Registered Companion, and for her it meant all the world. The polite applause sounded thunderous in her ears, and her grin was the widest it had ever been.

They descended the stairs slowly, giving their most poised smiles, putting their most graceful steps forward. The goal for the night was building one's wave log, making professional connections, and perhaps even taking a first client. It was the reason that Madrassa House often worked with the Kim household: the location was ideal. Each of the rooms on the second level beyond the balcony held a sumptuous bed and dark curtains across the floor-to-ceiling windows. The rooms also helped cement the reputations of the new Companions.

Servers dressed in identical black suit jackets milled about with trays of champagne flutes. The new Companions gathered to toast their future success, all hoping it would start tonight. Inara sipped the champagne slowly; the straw-coloured bubbles fizzed and tickled her nose.

The caterers brought trays of food to the banquet tables. The entire hall was decorated in gold and white, just this side of tasteful without being overdone. It highlighted the massive chandelier, which seemed to twinkle with mirth. Inara found that the more champagne she drank, the more it twinkled. She could watch it twinkle all night.

Inara smiled the smile she had practiced for these sort of functions - rehearsed, pleasant, and poised. Enough to make it look like she was having a good time to anyone untrained in looking. She could tell that if the House Priestess had been glancing her way, the smallest of frowns would cross her face, the only outward sign of her displeasure. Inara turned the smile back to the nameless man she was dancing with, trying to ignore his sweating palms moistening the back of her silk dress.

It was one of those dances where the partners would change after every other strophe of the music; enough to have a decent amount of time looking at one's partner, but short enough to go to another without feeling obligated to stay with an unsuitable dancer. These were Inara's favourite dances, because they were meant to change rapidly, and she really didn't like staying with one person too long. It was one of the reasons she wanted to be a Companion; having to tie oneself down to one person for the rest of your life seemed so steady, so final, like everything else in life ceased after that joining.

The music changed, and she was thankful to get away from Sweaty Hands. She did the requisite graceful half-turn, and turned into the arms of a tall, broad-shouldered man. She looked up into his eyes with that same smile she used for all of them. He was about her age, maybe a bit older, and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

This smile wasn't as practiced as hers, but it still held an edge to it that suggested it was put on. But his eyes... his eyes were the most genuine thing about him. They were as deep blue as hers were brown, and they held something hidden in the depths, that even she with her training couldn't quite figure out. She wondered idly if she was quite ready to complete her training at the Academy, since she wasn't sure it was entirely done.

He was fascinating, in every sense of the word. His eyes sparkled with real interest, yet she sensed he was still hiding something. The beat of the music changed to more of a meringue, and he swung her around quickly, reeling her in as her feet nearly tripped over her swirling skirts. The corner of his mouth quirked upwards, and his large hand splayed on her back pulled her closer as they danced. He was entirely different from Sweaty Hands, or anyone else she had danced with that night. His dancing wasn't the smoothest, but then after several glasses of champagne, neither was hers. He was simply fun.

The time came to turn to the next partner, and he winked as he swung her towards yet another sweating, fat man. She tried to cover the cringe with her most ingratiating smile, and kept glancing over his shoulder to find the best dance partner she'd ever had, but he was gone without a trace.

The song ended, blissfully so, and Inara excused herself to the buffet table. She grabbed a champagne flute and downed half of it in one gulp. Dancing was hard work. She defied anyone to tell her different. She was feeling a bit dizzy; she supposed it was from all that spinning she engaged in. Yes, it had nothing to do with the previous glasses of champagne, or the fact that her eyes were still scanning the room for those twinkling blue eyes and strong arms.

Sheydra stumbled into her then, and Inara's reflexes alone prevented the champagne from dribbling down the front of her satin dress. "I have my first client!" Sheydra exclaimed, face flushed from excitement, or booze, or both. "How have you been doing? Met anyone interesting yet?" She snagged a glass from a roving waiter and all but chugged the bubbly.

"I've danced with a number of people tonight," Inara said carefully, hoping Sheydra would let the question go. It worked, as Sheydra was distracted by someone sweeping across the dance floor in rather tight pants. She looked over and saw it was the man she had been searching for since he left her spinning on the dance floor. "There's one, for instance," she said quietly.

"I think he's some ambassador's son or something," Sheydra said with a vague wave of her hand, nearly sloshing out whatever contents were left in the glass. "Anyway, I'm off to freshen up before meeting my client." She grinned suddenly, and it was contagious. Inara watched her hurry away, feeling the smile on her face.

Inara wandered away from the buffet table. She wasn't one of those girls who was constantly watching her waistline; however, standing with her back to the crowd was no way to meet possible clients. This was her career now, and she had to think like a businesswoman. She smiled at all that passed, weaving carefully through the crowd. It seemed to her that her dress had gotten longer, or more voluminous around her ankles – she didn't remember it being this unwieldy at the beginning of the night.

Gliding through the crowd on the dance floor was no longer effortless, so she chose to wander toward the outskirts of the floor, near the walls. There was a set of double doors that led to the kitchen off the side, nearly beneath one of the staircases. It wouldn't hurt to check it out – after all, a wander away from all these people with the bright colours bouncing off the chandelier's crystals would only help her swimming head.

Inara glanced over her shoulder for anyone watching, then carefully pushed on one of the steel swinging doors. Turning towards her intended trajectory, she stifled a gasp when she took in the scene in front of her.

In the kitchen, leaning against one of the stainless steel counters, were two men. More accurately, both of the men were shirtless, with their pants shoved down to their knees, and one of them was bent over the counter face first. Their torsos were gleaming with sweat, and the bent-over man was clutching at the counter white-knuckled. The man behind him, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair, gave guttural grunts with each thrust into the one beneath him. The gasp from Inara was not for the fact that two men were having sex in the kitchen, but more for the fact that the bent-over man was the same one with the twinkling blue eyes and swift feet from the dance floor. As silently as she could, Inara ducked back out of the kitchen, shaking her head. Too bad he was sly, she thought; he was awfully cute.


End file.
